


heartbound, lay down your armor

by Archer973



Series: Heartbound [4]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Passionate Sex, Porn with Feelings, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22897615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: In the days leading up to the Victory Day celebration, Bass and Charlie must deal with a reminder of the past that brings to light a myriad of hidden desires
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson/Miles Matheson/Bass Monroe
Series: Heartbound [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596340
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, while this is tagged as CM2, Charlie and Bass are the only two that are physically present, though Miles definitely is spoken of/in their thoughts. Hope you folks enjoy!

Their rooms in Austin were luxurious compared to their little house in the woods, all velvet drapes, thick throw rugs, and elegant furniture made from exotic woods. Blanchard hadn't been stingy when he appointed them housing, and seeing as how often any combination of the three of them were here, Bass was usually quite grateful for that. But as he sat on the plush, sprawling couch, glass of Blanchard's best whiskey in hand, and stared at what had been waiting for him when he came back from the officer's meeting, he longed for _home_.

Bass didn't know where the hell Blanchard had even managed to dig up an old Republic uniform. Hell, judging by the richness of the blue wool and the shine of the golden buttons, it was entirely likely Blanchard had had the damn thing _made_. There was a note sitting on the coffee table, but Bass hadn't bothered to read it yet. Instead he took another sip of whiskey and just _looked_.

Maybe this was all a nightmare. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he would open them and see the plain pine walls of their bedroom, Charlie and Miles sprawled out across the sheets next to him, half of Charlie's hair in his mouth and Miles snoring like a chainsaw on her other side, the early morning light just starting to trickle in the crooked windows that Bass had had to insulate with a sacrificed overshirt, lest the wind shriek through the house like a banshee every time it stormed. Maybe he hadn't left for Austin yet.

Maybe he had never left the Republic at all.

“Hey.”

Charlie's voice was soft. Bass opened his eyes, the fingers around his glass tightening. He wasn't surprised that he hadn't heard her come in, though a part of his brain had been watching the shadows of the room grow longer, knowing Blanchard would only keep her in meetings for so long.

“Hey.” His voice rasped out of his throat, reluctant. The blue of the uniform seemed to throb before his eyes, bright and blatant and ruinous. He wanted to look at her, to tell her that he hadn't asked for this, that he didn't want it. But he couldn't pull his eyes away from that damning reminder of the past fate had so kindly dropped in his lap.

 _Did you really think you could escape it?,_ a voice hissed in his mind, and Bass flinched away from it, lifting the glass to his lips and draining it, whiskey burning as it slid down his throat.

Charlie was in front of him when he lowered the glass and Bass couldn't stop the way his heart squeezed when he looked at her. She was so beautiful, hair pushed behind her shoulders to fall long and loose down her her back and the button up she always wore to Blanchard's meetings unfastened, hanging open over the tank tops she favored and that Bass loved so much. Bass wanted so badly to reach for her, but he could still see the uniform hanging behind her, pressed and polished and perfect.

Everything he had wanted to be so badly and yet had never been. Everything he had fought and killed for, yet let burn down around him in a maelstrom of fire. Everything that _should_ have been his, should have been _theirs_ , and yet had ripped away his heart and left him with nothing but corpses and blood to drown in.

Charlie looked at him for a few moments, but when Bass refused to meet her eyes she sighed, then turned and sank onto the couch beside him. Her hip pressed against his thigh with familiar weight and her elbow knocked against his. Bass' hand tightened around the empty glass he still held, both wanting to sink into the contact and not daring to, holding himself rigid, eyes fixed straight ahead as he waited for the storm to break.

The storm never came. Instead Charlie reached out and touched the back of his clenched hand, a light pressure that resonated through Bass' body like a thunderclap. When Bass still didn't look at her, Charlie began to move her fingers gently, tracing nonsensical patterns across the back of his fist.

“Blanchard send that?” Charlie's voice was quiet, easy, just like when they curled up in front of the fire and she asked him about his day. Bass almost wished she had yelled instead. Then at least the other shoe would have dropped and he could turn the sickening twisting of anxiety in his chest into rage. Instead he just shrugged.

“Dunno. There's a note, but...” He trailed off, wishing that he had more whiskey. He could see Charlie out of the corner of his eye, watching him, but he couldn't bring himself to turn his head and look at her.

He felt the sigh this time, then Charlie leaned forward and picked up the note, her other hand never leaving his. Flicking the paper open, Charlie read it aloud.

“ _Monroe,_

_Hope you haven't gotten fat since your presidential days. Tailors still had your measurements on file, so I had them run you off a new set of dress blues for the Victory Day celebrations. Even let you keep your damn Yankee colors. Should give those California bastards a start, seeing you all kitted out._

_Best,_

_Blanchard_

_P.S. Don't worry, your boyfriend's getting a set too. I know how you princesses like to match._ ”

Bass closed his eyes, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or go pull Blanchard's spine out through his throat. Of course. Governor Affleck was attending this year's commemoration of the destruction of the Patriots. While the relationship between Texas and California hadn't exactly turned hostile, it certainly wasn't cordial, and Blanchard wasn't above reminding the visiting dignitaries just _exactly_ who his allies were, dethroned or not.

“Hey.” Charlie pressed into Bass' side, making him open his eyes. “You okay?”

Bass let his eyes slide sideways, finally looking at Charlie. He had the bizarre desire to laugh, though he had a feeling if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. “Miles is gonna flip.”

“Miles isn't getting here for another three days,” Charlie replied, her lips pressing together in a slight frown as she looked at Bass, blue eyes focused on him with the intensity that was so _Charlie_ that Bass felt something in his chest begin to loosen. “I asked if _you_ were okay.”

Bass took a deep breath. Was he okay? No, not really. But at the same time, yes, he was. Because Charlie wasn't looking at him and seeing the man she had pulled the trigger on in New Vegas, the man who had ripped her family apart and shattered her whole world. The uniform may have brought those memories back for him, but Charlie... Charlie, _Charlie_ , his beautiful Charlotte... All that he could see was her concern, bright and honest. She was worried for him, and _that_... that made it so nothing else mattered.

Letting his fingers uncurl, Bass turned his hand slightly towards Charlie, his palm red where his fingernails had dug into skin. Immediately Charlie threaded her fingers through his, squeezing his hand tightly. Bass squeezed back, the first hints of a smile flickering across his face.

“It was... a shock, coming back and finding it here,” he said slowly, smile growing more pronounced when Charlie raised her eyebrow at the understatement. “I... I suddenly thought that... that everything had been a dream. I thought that I was going to turn around and be back in my rooms in Philly, alone and...” Bass trailed off, pressing his lips together.

_...scared._

_...abandoned._

_...a monster._

“Bass.” Charlie's voice was soft, but the core of Matheson steel cut through his dark thoughts like a blade through paper. “Bass, _look at me_.” Bass lifted his gaze, no more able to resist that voice than to stop the sun in the sky. Charlie's eyes were practically burning, so bright and focused were they as she looked at him. “You are _not_ alone. I'm here. I'm _here_ , and I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

Bass' heart twisted, his breath catching in his throat. Charlie didn't look away, letting him see the truth of her words in her eyes. She was here. She was with him. Nothing was going to change that.

“I love you.” The words came out of his throat ragged and raw, but Charlie smiled at him like they were poetry.

“I love you too,” she replied, squeezing his hand gently.

Suddenly Bass couldn't bear to have her so far away. Dropping the empty whiskey glass onto the floor, he wrapped his arm around Charlie's waist and pulled her into his lap, crushing her to his chest as he buried his face into her shoulder. Charlie smiled, murmuring his name as her arms came up and wrapped around his neck, one hand threading its way into his hair as she returned his embrace.

Bass took a deep, shaky breath, drawing in the scent of her. Cedar like the trees she moved through so easily and honeysuckle from the soap Blanchard seemed to send her by the crate. If sunlight had a scent, this would be it. He turned his head, pressing his lips to the base of her throat. Charlie sighed, her body melting into his, and the last bit of tension in Bass' chest let go. To hell with Blanchard and his stupid power games. He had all he needed right here, in Charlie's warm body and the faint hint of Miles' whiskey-and-steel smell that still clung to her skin from their farewells yesterday.

Hands splayed wide across Charlie's back, Bass began to work his way up her neck, kissing and nibbling lightly at the golden skin. Charlie hummed her approval, letting her head tilt to the side, offering him her throat, no fear, no hesitation. Something that should have been an act of surrender only served to make Bass the weak one, for he was helpless before her unflinching trust.

“Oh Charlotte...” Bass murmured, pressing his lips to the fluttering pulse below her jaw, then pulling back just enough so that he could see her eyes. “I don't deserve you.” He didn't. He knew he didn't. But he _wanted_ her so badly, and he had always been the type of man to take what he wanted...

“Well tough,” Charlie replied firmly, cutting across his train of thought, leaning her head so that their foreheads were pressed together, her arms tight around him, brilliant blue eyes steady and sure. “Because you have me, Bass. You have me, and that will never change. So you better get used to it.” She grinned at him, and all the air left Bass' lungs, because if Athena deigned to come to a mortal man, she would look like Charlie, golden in her surety and unshaken in her choice.

In that moment Bass couldn't do anything but tilt his head and press a kiss to Charlie's lips. She met his kiss readily, smiling into it, hand raking through his curls as she kissed him with the certainty only the young could have. But Charlie was no wide-eyed innocent, and her kiss carried an edge of steel. _You are mine_ , it said, _mine, mine, mine_ , and Bass could only kiss back, _yes, yes, always,_ _ **always**_ _..._

“Charlotte...” Bass murmured, hardly breaking the kiss, so her name was traced across her lips by his own. “I want you...”

“Yes, Bass, _yes_ ,” Charlie replied fiercely, pressing tighter into him, hips shifting to grind into the hardness her mere proximity had already coaxed to life. Bass groaned, arms tightening around her, then it was a mad rush of hands. Bass pushed the overshirt off Charlie's shoulders and flung it over the back of the couch, then was raised his arms to let Charlie give the same treatment to his shirt. As he peeled her tank top up over her head, she kicked out of her jeans, then attacked his zipper. Bass lifted his hips, allowing her to shove his jeans down, and then she was pressed against him, hot and wet and so perfect Bass swore the room swam before his eyes.

“God, you are so fucking gorgeous...” Bass murmured, hands tracing up and down Charlie's sides as she began to grind against him, spreading her wetness along his cock in long strokes that made him feel like his very blood was on fire. “Don't know how you ended up with a scarred old bastard like me.”

Charlie raised her eyebrow at him, slowing her movements, making Bass whimper at the loss of sensation. Sliding her hands from where they had been resting on his back around to his shoulders, Charlie gently pushed Bass backwards, pressing him into the arm of the couch and baring his long, lean torso to the fading afternoon light.

Bass had lived and died by his physical abilities for decades, and every inch of him was sculpted with that knowledge. All fat had been burned away by the constant struggle for survival, leaving only honed muscle behind. He was a gorgeous sight to behold, leonine in his deadly beauty. But the warrior's life did not come without its price.

Scars of every size cut jagged lines across his tanned torso, some barely discernible from the surrounding skin while others stood out white and knotted, slashing across his chest in the broad stroke of a sword or punching a divot into his shoulder with the memory of a bullet. Some were pulled crooked, the result of hasty battlefield stitches, while others looked as precise as if drawn by a razor.

Sliding her hands down from his shoulders, Charlie traced her fingers gently along the patchwork of crisscrossing lines, her hips never stopping their small, teasing roll against his cock. Bass groaned her name, but Charlie would not be hurried, trailing her fingers from one scar to the next, feeling the pucker of the ones that had barely healed before he ripped them open again and the strange smoothness of the burn splashed across his side.

“Maybe I like your scars,” Charlie said, looking at Bass with eyes like a summer lake, deep and heavy with depths not spoken, but still known. “Maybe without your past, you never would have come into my life. And I _want_ you in my life, Bass. Do you understand?”

_Everything that happened, it lead us here._

_Without the pain, we would not be who we are._

_I forgave you a long time ago._

_I love you._

The words flashed between them without being spoken, but Charlie and Bass had never needed them to be. From that very first moment in the pool, they had understood each other in a way that had nothing to do with something as malleable as speech and everything to do with a calling in their hearts. Charlie may have been Miles' blood, but she and Bass were cut from the same cloth. Families ripped away, broken by a world turned cruel and then reforged stronger through their own force of will. Their stories had wrapped them together as surely as the double helix of her and Miles' shared blood. Tyrant and innocent, general and revolutionary, hunted and hunter... over and over they circled each other, twisting ever closer. Reluctant comrades. Companions. Lovers. Beloveds.

“I...” Bass trailed off, the emotions swirling in his throat leaving no room for words. But Charlie was looking at him, steady and sure and bare before him, her hands tracing the terrors of his past even as her body cradled him to the softest part of her. “I understand.” Charlie grinned at him, bright and golden and splendid above him.

“Good,” she replied, then sank down on his cock.

“Fu – ” The curse broke off strangled in Bass' throat as the searing heat of Charlie enveloped him. Her arousal had slicked him, but he could still feel the tightness of her around him as she moaned, eyes fluttering at the feel of him so thick inside her. Bass slid his hand from where it had been resting on her thigh to her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves there gently.

“Mmm, _Bass_...” Charlie purred, grinning at him, her hands spreading wide to brace against his chest as she let him stroke her. “You feel so good inside me.”

“Fucking favorite place to be, beautiful,” Bass replied, grinning at her. Charlie laughed, lifting herself slightly and sinking back down onto his cock, taking him even farther this time. Bass groaned, his stomach muscles twitching as he fought not to thrust up into her, not to chase the heat and exquisite feeling that being buried inside his Charlotte always brought. Instead he let Charlie work herself slowly in his lap, hand cradling her hip so that with every slow rise and fall of her body he could stroke her clit gently.

Charlie smiled at him, hands sliding upwards as her wrapped her arms around Bass' shoulders, pulling him back up to her so that they were chest to chest. Never stopping her slow, rolling movements, Charlie pressed a gentle kiss to Bass' lips. Bass hummed, arm snaking around Charlie's waist even as his other hand continued to toy with her clit, holding her to him. The change in angle made him sink so deep into her that both of them moaned, their heady desire hummed across each other's lips.

“Charlotte...” Bass whispered, the emotions thrumming between them too heavy for anything louder. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so much I can't fucking _breath_ sometimes.”

“I love you too, Bass,” Charlie murmured, leaning her forehead against his, eyes holding his as she rocked into him. “Scars and all, _I love you_.”

Catching his lips in a hot, searing kiss, Charlie ground into him, pressing his cock as deep inside her as it would go. One hand snaked up and fisted itself into his hair, holding him in place as Charlie took everything Bass had to give her, thighs trembling as she set a hard, slow rhythm that barely pulled them apart but still twisted the desire between them higher and higher as every grinding roll drove Bass so deep inside her he knew she would be feeling it for days after this.

Bass groaned into Charlie's kiss, the hand on her hip pressing so tight he knew he was going to leave a bruise. But Charlie was no dainty flower and she hummed her pleasure into his mouth, fingers digging into his back and sending sharp flares of pain-turned-pleasure down his spine as her fingernails dug into his skin, adding her mark to the myriad of others that littered his body.

 _Mine_ , her hands seemed to croon, pressing her claim into his skin as her walls began to tremble around him, . _Mine, mine, mine..._

“Yours,” Bass whispered, answering her unspoken words, circling his thumb on her clit as he held her even tighter against him, their foreheads still leaned together so every word was spoken directly onto her lips. “ _Yours_ , Charlotte, forever.”

Charlie kissed him fiercely, more teeth than lips, hot and biting and tasting of everything that had always hummed between them, even when her heart had howled for his blood. Bass growled into the kiss, his hips snapping up, driving his cock into her with all of that killer's strength she had run her hands over so lovingly. Charlie gasped into the kiss, her nails sinking into his skin and then she was coming, clenching around him, taking him so deep inside her that it was as if she was trying to meld their bodies together into one.

Bass' control snapped. Crushing Charlie to him, he drove his cock into her, chasing the hot rush of her pleasure. Tighter and tighter the spiral inside him wound, Charlie clinging to him as she took everything he could give her, chanting his name over and over again.

“Bass, Bass, Bass, _Bass_... ”

“Charlo – ” His orgasm ripped through him, forcing him to choke on her name. Charlie never looked away, watching him fall apart in her arms, forehead pressed to his as he came hot and thick inside her, his seed filling her in all the ways they both loved. Bass' chest heaved and his arms ached from holding Charlie so tight, but he couldn't bear to let her go, to lose the feel of her body against his.

“I love you.” The words were whispered, but his eyes made them echo louder than any shout. “Charlotte, I love you so much.” Charlie smiled at him gently, nudging her nose against his gently as a hand slid up to thread through his hair, cradling him to her.

“I love you too, Bass,” she replied softly, body entwined as tightly with his as their hearts were. “No matter what, I love you.”

“Scars and all?” Bass asked, smiling at her even as his eyes asked the question behind his words. Charlie laughed lightly, fingers carding through his hair as she looked into his eyes, soft and open and sure in her answer.

“Scars and all, Bass. Scars and all.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you ever miss it?” Charlie's words are soft in dying evening light. She and Bass had not bothered to get up from the couch yet, simple wiped themselves clean with whatever piece of clothing was handy and settled into the plush velvet, Charlie cradled against Bass' chest and his cheek resting on the top of her head, theirs fingers idly twined together. “The Republic, I mean.”

Bass tried to ignore the sudden swoop of panic in his stomach, pressing himself tighter against Charlie as he fought down the reflexive words that tried to spill out of mouth. They were trained lies, and he wouldn't insult Charlie by saying them to her. Instead he murmured, “I wouldn't trade what I have now for anything in the world, Charlotte.”

Charlie tilted her head so that she could look up at him, the hand not joined with his stroking down his arm, soothing the tension Bass had tried not to let surface.

“I know that,” she said softly, her eyes steady. “That's not what I meant. I just... I remember the early days, you know. After the Blackout. I remember the chaos, the hunger, the fear. I was five years old the first time I saw my mother kill a man. I was seven when I put a knife into the ribs of a man who was trying to barter my life for food. I remember thinking the blood looked like paint before my dad scrubbed it off.”

Bass swallowed, instinctively holding Charlie closer to his chest. She was so _young_. He forgot sometimes, looking into her soldier's eyes. He forgot that while he had already done two tours in the desert when the lights went out, she had been barely old enough to start school. Those early days had been nothing but panic and blood and the strong ripping apart the weak to get what they wanted. He had had Miles and a decade of military experience. She had been _five_.

It wasn't often that he thought of Rachel with any fondness, but at that moment, Bass thanked every god he could think of that Charlie's mother had been the vicious sociopath that she was, because more than likely it was the only reason Charlie had survived those first few years.

“But then things started to change.” Bass looked back down at Charlie, pulled back to the present by her voice. “I remember a man in blue giving me some dried meat. My mom and dad were wary, but he was kind. He told us where to find fresh water and shelter. He said the bandits wouldn't hunt us there. He had an M on his jacket and I remembered thinking that was so cool, because my last name started with an M. I asked him if I could get a jacket with an M on it and he smiled at me and told me maybe when I was older, if I was brave and strong and willing to fight to protect people.”

A lump was beginning to form in Bass' throat and he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or scream. M for Monroe. M for Matheson. Both their names, together. A symbol of unity that had gone so very, very wrong.

“That's what it was supposed to be.” Bass' voice was rough and he faltered for a moment, overwhelmed by the memories of his fallen kingdom. But Charlie squeezed his hand, her heartbeat steady against his chest, and Bass forced himself to breath, to take strength from her, this girl who had been a child of the apocalypse and come out all the stronger for it. “I just wanted to keep Miles alive, to help him find Ben and Rachel. But Miles... he couldn't stand the chaos, couldn't stand the sight of the strong preying on the weak. And the longer we went without finding you guys, the more he focused on it. I think it gave him purpose when he was lost, and the hope that if he created order, he would be able to find his family.”

“And Miles was your family, so you helped him.” It wasn't a question and for a moment Bass' chest squeezed so tightly at the love he had for Charlie that he couldn't breathe. She _knew_. She _understood_ , understood in a way that suddenly made him realize that while she was Miles' blood, she was Ben's daughter. Ben, who had always believed so firmly in the bonds of family that Miles had fought and run from. His bond with his blood brother twisted with the guilt of Rachel, his chosen brotherhood with Bass seared by the lust society had told them was perverted and shameful... no, Miles had never had an easy time with family. But Charlie had been raised to believe that family was _everything_ , from never letting go of her little brother's hand to walking across two states to find the uncle she didn't know to ask for his help. And that was Ben in a way that made Bass' heart ache.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice choked. Charlie looked up at him, her eyes searching his face with concern. But Bass just shook his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding his lips against her skin as he fought the waves of regret back. Ben had never been his brother the way that Miles was, but he had been kind to him, and Bass had never wanted him to die.

They sat like that for a few moments, Bass breathing in the scent of Charlie's honeysuckle hair and Charlie holding tightly to his hand. Then, her voice quiet, Charlie asked, “Do you think it would have been different, if Miles had never left?”

Left. Never tried to kill him, she meant. It was an old wound that still ached, but it surprised Bass how much the agony of it had faded. Part of it was because Miles was back with him, more fully now than he ever had been before. And the rest... well...

“No.” Charlie looked up at him, and Bass could read the surprise plain in her eyes. He gave her a small, wry smile, shifting so that he could reach up and push a stray piece of hair out of her face, trailing his fingers down her cheek at he did. “No, Charlotte, by the time Miles tried to kill me the Republic was already rotten. He just cared more than I did.”

It was an ugly truth. He had been a dictator with blood on his hands and it hadn't meant a goddamn thing to Bass, not when leadership of the Republic kept Miles at his side. But it was not the worst of Bass' scars and Charlie leaned her head into his hand, looking up at him with an understanding so deep Bass felt it in his bones. He had built an empire to keep his brother safe. She had been willing to burn one down to save her own.

“I wish – ” Bass broke off, looking away, his jaw clenching tight against the thoughts trying to be spoken, traitorous, twisting things that curled in the dark corners of his mind, whispering to him in the dark of the night. But then Charlie's hand was on his cheek, turning him back to look at her and the silent question in her eyes, and Bass had never been able to hide anything from that steady gaze.

“I wish, sometimes, that... that Rachel had brought you when she turned herself into Miles.” Charlie's hand when rigid in his own and Bass felt the hole in his gut open again, but Charlie didn't pull away.

“To get the power back on?” she asked blandly, raising her eyebrows at Bass. “Threatening me wouldn't have gotten her to help you, you know. Not when it would have been at the expense of Danny's life.” Charlie's voice had become edged in the way it always did when she talked about her mother, but none of the anger had made its way into her eyes as she looked at Bass. Instead they were just... heavy. Tired in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion and everything to do with an understanding of pain so deep it was written into your bones. There were many things that Bass hated Rachel for, but putting that look into Charlie's eyes... that was one he would never forgive her for.

“That's not what I meant, Charlotte,” Bass told her gently, tilting his head forward so that he could rest his forehead against Charlie's, his hand still cupping her cheek as he held her, his heart aching. “I just... I wish that you could have grown up in the Republic, before it all went to hell. I wish that Miles and I could have known you before we became monsters.” Charlie looked at Bass, the shadows of her mother's conditional love still flitting through her eyes. But then she relaxed, allowing her fingers to twine with his once more as she leaned gently into the pressure of his forehead against her own, taking comfort in his closeness.

“You know I was like twelve, right?” Charlie said after a moment, giving Bass a small smile. Bass rolled his eyes.

“I didn't mean like _that_ ,” he replied, looking at Charlie with a mock glare that just made her grin. “I may be a cradle-robbing bastard in love with a woman half my age, but I do have _some_ morals.” Charlie laughed and Bass twisted his head so that he could kiss her nose, making Charlie squawk indignantly. But then Bass sobered, looking down at Charlie once more.

“You would have been safe in the Republic, Charlotte. I wasn't such a monster yet. You would have had food and water, fortified walls and soldiers to keep you safe. My issues with Rachel would not have brought harm to you, not then.”

“Because of Miles?” Charlie asked, her voice gentle. She had not looked away from Bass as he spoke, and Bass wondered, as he had so many times before, how she could stand to touch him, lay with her body pressed against his, knowing the things he had done, the man he had been.

Because he could see them in her eyes. She had not forgotten, not shifted them in her mind so that someone else carried the blame. No, his Charlotte was too direct for that. She would not play games, not with others, not with herself. She knew exactly what Bass was, exactly what he had done.

And she loved him anyways.

“Yes,” Bass replied bluntly, Charlie's unflinching gaze pulling the rough truth from his chest. “He would have taken one look at you and been lost, and I have never able to deny him anything.” Charlie grinned, knowing the absolute truth behind those words. But then she sobered.

“If I had found him at that age, he wouldn't have fallen in love with me, would he?” Her tone was even, wry almost. But Bass knew her well enough to hear the edge of sorrow, the vulnerability in her words.

“Miles would have always loved you, Charlotte,” he replied gently, but Charlie looked up at him balefully, cutting through his platitudes with a bluntness that reminded him painfully of a young Miles in all of the best ways.

“As his niece,” she countered, her voice hardening around the word like it was a curse. “Not as his equal. Not as his lover.” Bass looked down at her, at the pain in her eyes that she was trying so hard to pretend was not there, and sighed, gathering her close.

“I don't know, beautiful,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You know how much he struggles with it. The age difference, the fact that you two are family... I don't know how much would have changed if he saw you grow up, saw you go from child to woman. But I do know this: no force in the world could stop Miles from loving you, Charlotte. And the way he looks at you... well, it's enough to make even a cynic like me believe in fate.”

Charlie tilted her head, looking up at Bass with one dark blue eye. Bass looked back, letting her see his conviction. Miles may have fought it, but Charlie was always meant to be theirs, and a few years of watching her grow wouldn't have changed that. In fact, it might have saved them all.

“What about you?” Charlie asked. Her voice was still soft, but the sorrow was gone, soothed by Bass' words in a way that made his heart warm. Charlie's trust was not something easily won and the fact that he had it was still something that amazed him. Bass looked down at the woman in his arm, Matheson steel and fire languid in repose as she looked up at him, and could not stop a small laugh.

“Oh Charlotte... I never stood a chance against you and we both know it.”

Charlie laughed, grinning up at him as she teased, “Too much Miles in me, huh, Bass?”

“Partly, yes,” Bass replied, smiling back at her, but his eyes were anything but light at he looked at her, this beautiful woman who had turned his whole world on its head. “But you are so much more than just an extension of Miles, Charlotte. You kill without hesitation when it's needed, but you are willing to give people compassion just as easily. You throw your life on the line at the slightest chance of being able to save an innocent, not because a religion says you're evil if you don't or society taught you that you should – hell, you grew up under an unstable dictator, as I happen to know painfully well – but because your _heart_ tells you that it is the right thing to do. You aren't afraid to challenge those with power when you think what they're doing is wrong, but you don't let hate cloud your vision of what needs to be done. You're not a consolation prize, Charlotte. You are _extraordinary_.” Charlie looked up at Bass and into those deep, winter blue eyes and wondered how it was that she could be so _loved_.

“Miles called it 'unusual',” she said after a moment, smiling slightly. Bass snorted, rolling his eyes as he let the tension between them break.

“Miles has the tact of a drunk water buffalo,” he replied tartly and Charlie laughed, pressing herself into his chest, hand splayed over his heart. She did not have the words the Bass did, the words to spin the spiraling, leaping flames in her chest out into world, to tell him everything his adoration made her feel, from the strange beauty of being cherished to the heavy warmth of love. But she and Bass had never really needed words, and so Charlie simply pressed her fingers to his skin and let him hear her love in her touch.

“So I would have gotten my jacket with an M, then?” she asked and Bass felt his heart stutter, the hands that had been stroking down her back freezing.

“Would you have wanted one?” he asked, looking down at Charlie. Charlie looked back up at him, her eyes soft.

“At that time, yes,” she replied, and Bass felt like all the air had been pulled from his lungs. “The soldiers scared my parents, but to me they were still better than the bandits. They took food, but they didn't take girls. They were hard, but they weren't cruel. And they could fight. I knew that I needed to learn how to as well if I was going to survive.”

Bass' chest was squeezing tighter with every word. Food, but not girls. Hard, but not cruel. Was that what had constituted as “good” in Charlie's childhood? Bass felt a sudden spike of anger at Rachel. Why didn't she bring her children? Bass could understand leaving Ben behind, both because of his knowledge of the Blackout and her own selfish reasons of wanting to be near Miles without her _husband_ to bother them, but Charlie and Danny? Even if she did not trust Bass with her children, she should have at least trusted _Miles_ , the man she claimed to love so much.

“We would have taught you how to fight,” Bass murmured, trying hard to contain the anger stirring in his chest. “Anything you wanted to know, we would have taught you. To shoot, to heal, to ride, to _lead_ – ” Bass cut himself off, clenching his jaw so tight that he swore he could hear his teeth creaking. The image swam before his mind, Charlie standing tall at his side, wrapped in the same blue he and her uncle were wearing, the major's insignia on her chest the same color as her hair. It was an impossible dream, but...

“Tell me?” Charlie's voice was quiet, but her eyes were clear as she looked up at him. “If it had been a perfect world...”

A perfect world. A world were he wasn't consumed by the need to turn the power on. A world where Rachel had brought her children, or even where he and Miles had found them all before things started to go wrong... Bass took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak.

“There was a room in the manor in between Miles' and mine. It would have been yours. It had a fireplace and windows that faced the sunrise and bookcases that reached the ceiling, filled with anything you could possibly want to read. Engineering, tactics, botany, novels... whatever you wanted, it was there. Our office was across the hall. You would have spent time there, listening to Miles and I, asking questions. You would have told us we were idiots and we wouldn't have listened because you were twelve. But then we'd have look again and seen that you were right. You would ask why people weren't allowed to have guns. We'd tell you about the ammo shortage. You'd tell us that everyone said it was so that if we wanted to kill them, they couldn't fight back. We'd realize we never explained our reasoning, just laid down the law and expected people to act like soldiers and follow. But people aren't soldiers, _you_ weren't a soldier _,_ and you would help us remember that.

When you got old enough, if you wanted it, you would become a cadet. But there would be no conscription ship for you, no boot camp designed to break you down and reshape you into the soldier's mold. You are the apple of General Matheson's eye, his beloved niece, and no one but the best would train you. So every morning you would sit with us in our office, reading reports and studying the Republic. Miles would teach you tactics and I would tell you about politics and Miles would roll his eyes and say that that was why _I_ was the one who was president, because he would rather just run people through with a sword than sweet talk them. And you would laugh and agree, because Matheson blood runs hot, and I would love you both in a way that I couldn't even begin to articulate.”

“And in the afternoon?” Charlie asked, her voice quiet, almost afraid to break the spell Bass was weaving around them with his words. She could almost see it, Miles and Bass leaned over a desk, younger and less worn, answering her questions as she looked down at the map before them. She would have loved them, she knew. Loved that they listened, loved that they looked at her and saw something other than her brother's keeper. All her life people had focused on Danny, and a dark, shameful part of Charlie had always resented it, no matter how much she adored her baby brother. But Bass and Miles... they would have looked at her and seen the fierceness her father had always tried to force her to contain, to push down. Don't act out. Look after your brother. Don't be noticed.

Bass looked at her and Charlie could see everything in his eyes, all his love and desire and the avarice that danced with the edge of darkness that always lingered between them.

“In the afternoon we would have gone down to the training yard and taught you everything we knew. And not just about killing. I would have taught you how to ride, how to sit up tall and proud, like a queen of old at the head of her army. Miles would have taught you how to survey the terrain, how pick out the best spots for ambushes and fortifications. And yes, we would have taught you how to fight. Swords, knives, guns, barehanded... we would have taught you everything. The other cadets would have been envious, and some of the idiot boys would have tried to comment how you couldn't really be that good, that we were taking it easy on you to make you look better than you were. You would have beaten them into the ground so badly that they would be in medical for days and Miles and I would smile and have the cooks make your favorite dessert, because we did spoil you, just not the way they thought.”

Charlie laughed and Bass pressed a kiss to her forehead, smiling. But then his face darkened slightly and his arm tightened around Charlie's back, pressing her into his chest.

“But we wouldn't be able to keep you with us forever. Eventually you would have to stretch your wings, and no one would take you seriously until they saw you without us. Baker is the only one we would have trusted with you, the fast-talking old bastard, and so you and him would have gone west to survey and support the Plains Nation border. It would have killed Miles and I, watching you go, but we both would have known that you needed it.”

“And here I figured you two would have been grateful for some alone time, without a nosy teenager sniffing around and wondering where her favorite people had disappeared to,” Charlie teased, and Bass chuckled, though his arm around her didn't loosen.

“At this point I'm pretty sure that after every training session with you Miles would have been fucking me raw on the nearest available surface,” he replied, pressing his lips to Charlie's hair. “Another reason we would have had to send you away. Nobody does denial quite like a Matheson, but we were greedy men, Charlotte, and it would have taken everything we had not to make you ours, in every sense of the word. But you still would have been young, too young, and we would have loved you too much to use you like that. So instead we would have fought and growled and fucked each other and waited for your letters with aching hearts.”

“So what age would have finally been old enough for you, hmm? 17? 18?” Charlie asked, raising her eyebrows at him in a way that told Bass exactly how stupid she found that notion. Bass shook his head, running his hand along her thigh as he looked at her, eyes heavy.

“It's not about age, or not completely. Think about the difference in the girl who tracked down Miles and the woman who tried to put a crossbow bolt in my throat.” Charlie frowned, but Bass could see the understanding start to take root in her eyes. “A year in time separated those two instances, but everything you had seen, everything you had done... it changed you faster than time ever would.”

“So you would have waited for me to be a killer?” Charlie asked, and Bass leaned his head down, resting it against Charlie's so that he could look into her eyes from only a breath away.

“No. We would have waited until loving us was a _choice_ , not a reaction.”

Charlie looked up into Bass' earnest winter blue eyes and all she could think was ' _He loves me. He really, actually loves me. Not because of Miles, not to spite my mother. He... he loves me for_ me.'

She had known that of course, but... sometimes it still didn't register, still didn't feel quite _real_. Circumstance had thrown her and Bass together, and she had always known that his desire to help her family had nothing really to do with them and everything to do with Miles. And she didn't blame him, couldn't blame him, not when she understood him so well. And yes, as time had gone on, she and Bass had twisted closer and closer together, drawn to each other by both the roiling emotions between them and the kinship the other had to Miles – Miles, who was trying so hard to hold himself apart, to push them away. It hadn't been a surprise to Charlie to find herself and Bass falling into bed together. It had felt... inevitable. But now...

“I do.” Charlie's voice was rough, her throat tight with emotions she had spent so long shoving down, but she looked into Bass' eyes and forced them out anyways. “Every day, Bass, I make the choice. Some days...” Charlie trailed off, the chasm of Danny's death yawning in her chest, her hands twitching at the memory of his blood spilling across them “... some days it's harder than others. All the death, all the loss...” Bass nodded slightly, his lips pressed tight, remembering the same things Charlie was. He tried to draw away, but Charlie held onto him, her eyes blazing as she looked at him “... but every day I make that choice, Bass. I love you. And I don't regret it, _ever_.” Bass looked down at Charlie and Charlie's heart twisted at the wetness that made those beautiful winter blues swim with his emotions. But she knew that there was more joy than sadness behind Bass' unshed tears and when she lifted her head up for a kiss, her own eyes were not exactly dry.

“I love you too, Charlotte.” The words were whispered against her lips, rough as if they had been pulled from the depths of his chest and all the more beautiful for it. “Every day, in every universe, _I love you_.”

Charlie smiled into the kiss, the sweeping pleasure his body brought her paling in comparison to the luminous, soul-filling _joy_ his words inspired. It was almost too much, her heart shying away from the rawness instinctually. But Bass' arms were around her and his heart was beating under her hand and Charlie knew, she _knew_ , that she was safe. Her heart was safe, here with Bass, and that knowledge made her happier than any bodily pleasure they might share.

The kiss ended eventually, but neither was willing to relinquish their closeness, twined together in a tangle of limbs, Charlie's hand spread almost possessively over Bass' breastbone and the heart beneath it while Bass tried to touch as much of Charlie's skin as he could, hands splayed across her back and thigh, marveling once again at how small she really was.

“I would have, you know.” Bass looked down at Charlie, eyebrow raised in question. Charlie looked up at him, her brilliant blue eyes soft and warm. “Loved you. In that perfect world... you and Miles would have sent me away, let me grow up a little bit, but when I came back...”

“We never would have stood a chance,” Bass finished, his eyes dancing as he looked down at her. Charlie nodded, grinning.

“Being away from you, missing you both that much... I would have been pissed, at first, even though I understood why you did it. Would have found some cute soldier who didn't mind that a girl could beat his ass and try to forget all about my generals back home. But I never would have been able to. And that's when I would have known, known that you, both of you, were _mine_. And that I was done pretending otherwise.”

Bass' heart jumped at the possessive growl of her voice and his cock twitched in a way that said if he had been twenty years younger that would have been the end of conversation, at least for a little while. But at the same time he was captivated by the fire in Charlie's eyes, the monster in his chest purring at the knowledge that she had not just let him spin his fantasy, but thought about it as well.

“We were always yours, Charlotte,” Bass replied, pressing a kiss to her temple as he trailed his fingers down her spine, marveling at the feel of her in his hands. “Miles would have fought the most, but he could never say no to you, no matter how much he felt he should. We are weak, greedy men, and you are everything our hearts desired. You would have taken your place, ruling beside us, the logic to my fury, the practicality to Miles' guilt. You, Charlotte Matheson, are our balance, and everyone would have seen it.”

“And behind closed doors?” Charlie asked, her eyes dancing. Bass grinned down at her, pulling Charlie tighter against his body, his soft cock pressing into the hollow of her hip and making her giggle.

“Behind closed doors, you would have been ours, in every way you would let us. The connector doors between our three rooms would be unbarred, the door on our office locked more than usual. There would be rumors, of course, but who could blame me, really, if I couldn't keep my hands off of General Matheson's pretty little niece?”

“And Miles?”

“He'd kill anyone who dared comment, or ventured to wonder how _exactly_ you and I were managing all those obscene things the soldiers whispered about when he never left our sides. But his fierce protectiveness of you would be well known by then, so no one would question it, even on the days when he could barely keep his hands off you, consequences be damned. And eventually...” Bass' voice trailed off, his eyes shifting away from Charlie even as she felt his heart stutter under her hand.

Reaching up, Charlie gently placed her hand on Bass' jaw, bringing his eyes back to hers. “Eventually?”

Bass looked down at her, the heart beneath her spread palm racing. “Eventually, when I... when I asked you to marry me, everyone would breath a sigh of relief that the 'secret' was out.”

Bass' voice trembled on the word 'marry' and he cursed himself for not being able to hide _anything_ of his heart from this woman. Charlie looked up at him, her eyes unreadable, and Bass felt like he was going to choke on his pulse, his heart was creeping so far up his throat. But then Charlie smiled, her eyes shining like sunlight across a summer lake, and Bass thought for a moment he might faint, the rush of relief was so heady.

“Matheson and Monroe, united at last,” Charlie said, her voice almost teasing, and Bass would have glared at her for playing with him like that if he hadn't been so goddamn thankfully she wasn't trying to run for the hills. But then Charlie's voice became serious and she pressed her fingers into his chest, marking where his heart beat wildly under her hand. “And when one of our children was born with Miles' dark hair and eyes?”

All the air left Bass' chest and his mouth was suddenly as dry as the desert he and Miles had spent so long in.

… children.

… _our_ children.

It wasn't something Bass allowed himself to think about, not even in the depths of the night when all his darkest desires came swimming to the surface. After Emma and Shelley, Connor and the daughter he hadn't even had a chance to name... so many people had died on his blade, so many children taken from parents that loved them... the universe, by some miracle, had granted him Charlie and Miles, but... so many times he was shown that he would never be allowed to raise a child, that that was his punishment for all the death he had sown.

But Charlie's words... god, he couldn't hide from the thought anymore. Charlie, glowing in the sunlight, her stomach rounded beneath his hand. The feel of their child kicking, all Matheson fire as Charlie glared up at him like it was his fault, even though she couldn't stop smiling. The shrill screaming as his child took their first breath, a sound he had never heard before... it didn't matter whose seed had caused the life to grow, his or Miles'. All Bass wanted was to look down at Charlie, flushed and exhausted from her labor, but safe and happy and _alive_ , their child in her arms and Miles holding onto his shoulder so tight that he would be able to blame the tears streaming down his face on that crushing grip.

“Then I would kiss you twice as long,” Bass replied, his voice wobbling, fighting back the images furiously, lest he lose any semblance of control. “For him and myself. People would whisper, but we would stand strong and eventually they would decide they would rather not know. And I would _love_ them, Charlotte, love every single child that you gave me, gave _us_. And so would Miles. Some days would be hard for him, but on those days I would love our children twice as much. We would be a _family_ , just like we are now, and nothing, _nothing_ , would ever change that.” Charlie looked up at him and Bass realized that her eyes were wet, swimming with the same emotions he himself was fighting.

“You would be a wonderful father, Bass,” she murmured softly, hand pressing down onto his chest. Bass closed his eyes, struggling to hold himself together. He covered Charlie's hand with his own and took a deep, shaking breath.

“In a perfect world?” he asked roughly, opening his eyes so that he could see her, his Charlotte, his damnation and salvation all rolled into one. Charlie looked back up at him, blue eyes wet, but clear and blazing with her certainty.

“In every world,” she replied, and Bass couldn't hold back his emotions any longer. He buried his face in Charlie's neck and held her so tight that he feared he would crush her. But Charlie was the strongest one of them all, born of the apocalypse and raised in its aftermath. Her arms held Bass steady as he mourned the life they could have never lived, whispering her love for him in his ear.

Because they didn't need a perfect world. The one they had now was worth everything it had taken to achieve it.

And it was filled with infinite possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, listen... listen... I have the biggest soft spot of Militia!AU CM2/Charloe EVER and I may have let it run away with me a little here. But I also 110% blame Bass, he just rips this kinda shit outta me and fam, I'm not gonna lie, I cried a little writing this. Thank you all so much for indulging me, and I promise, next chapter will MORE than make up for the lack of sexy times in this one.
> 
> So much love to you all, and thank you for reading, it really means the world to me to know that other people share my love for these characters <3


	3. Chapter 3

“Ah Kepler, good, I need – ” Bass' words evaporated out of his mouth as he turned and saw not his pimply runner, but Charlie.

And she was wearing a militia uniform.

“Uhh...” The papers Bass had picked up to give to his runner fell back onto his desk, his fingers suddenly nerveless. Charlie closed the door slowly behind her, grin growing for every moment Bass stared at her.

“Like Blanchard's morning surprise?” Charlie asked, spreading her arms to display her attire. Her eyes were dancing as she looked at Bass and the grin on her face was anything but the nonchalance her tone pretended at. “Apparently when you didn't beat him to death with his own femur, he decided it was safe to give me _my_ Victory Day present as well. To 'round out the set', as he put it.”

“Yeah he, uh, he mentioned giving you something to wear for the uh, you know, the dinner,” Bass replied haltingly, tongue clumsy as his mind spun. “I just, uh, I thought it was gonna be a dress.” Charlie cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Disappointed?” she asked, her grin never wavering. Bass shook his head, his heart thundering in his chest.

“Definitely not,” he breathed, and then his brain came back online and he was across the room in two strides, practically crashing into Charlie in his eagerness. Charlie laughed, arms wrapping around his shoulders and head tilting back for a kiss that Bass eagerly gave as he pressed her back against the door, hands roaming across her body and the wool and cotton that encased it.

“Fuck, Charlotte...” he murmured, the words brushing against Charlie's lips as he pressed his body against hers. “I thought I was dreaming, looking up and seeing you dressed like this.”

“Dreaming, huh?” Charlie teased, grinning up at him as she pressed her hips forwards, blue eyes dancing at the feel of his cock already hard and ready against her stomach, straining against his pants. “And exactly how often do you dream of me in uniform, hmm, Bass?”

“More often than I am willing to admit to,” Bass replied, grinning back at her as he ran his hand down her side, stroking the felted wool of the militia jacket over her curves. “You look good in my colors, Charlotte. Makes me want to do unspeakable things.”

“Oh really?” Charlie teased, her voice edged with a purr that shot pure arousal down Bass' spine. “I guess it's a good thing that I told Blanchard we wouldn't be at that lunch meeting, then.” Bass' brain stuttered and from Charlie's laugh he knew she could see it on his face

“Seriously?” Bass asked, and when Charlie nodded he leaned his forehead against hers, suddenly weak at the knees. “I know I should be disturbed that Blanchard knows _anything_ about our sex life, but honestly right now all I can think about is how much I want to fuck you on my desk.”

Charlie laughed, then tilted her head so that she could give Bass a fierce, scorching kiss, her fingers pressing into his shoulders with a possessiveness that made Bass' heart race. Pulling back just enough so that she could see Bass' arousal-darkened eyes, Charlie murmured, “Door's locked... General.”

Heat flared in down Bass' spine and his last ounce of control snapped. With a growl he picked Charlie up off the ground, pressing his lips to hers as if he sought to devour her. Charlie responded just as fiercely, legs wrapping around Bass' waist and one hand coming up to fist in his hair, pressing him even deeper into their kiss as she nipped and sucked at his lips, tongues tangling together as Bass spun them around.

Crossing the room quickly, Bass reached out and blindly swept his piled reports to the floor, clearing the top of his desk so that he could set Charlie down on it, though she was loathe to relinquish her grip on him, pulling him down with her so that his body pinned her to the burnished wood. She hummed at feel of his weight, shifting so that she could grind her hips against his own, making Bass hiss as the cotton of his pants dragged across his cock with almost torturous friction.

“Fuck, Charlotte,” he groaned, grinding into her and the heat he could feel even through their clothes. “I'm going to burn in hell for what seeing you in that uniform makes me want. So fucking perfect in my colors, everything I could have ever fucking wanted.”

“So take me,” Charlie growled, hands splayed possessively across his back as she looked up at him with eyes made out of blue fire. “Take me in this uniform, here on this desk, like you would have in the world where I wore this every day.”

Bass' chest seized tight and flames danced at the edges of his vision as Charlie's words fueled the clawing desires already howling in his mind. They were his darkest sins, the things that made him hate himself even as they set his blood on fire in the dark of the night. But as he stared down into Charlie's eyes, he saw his own desires mirrored back at him, for she knew as well as him how easily it all could have gone another way.

“Oh Charlotte...” Bass' voice trailed off. He had no words for the feelings in his chest, no words for the tangled knot of longing, self-hatred, desire, and pain. But Charlie did not need them, had never needed them. The connection that had bound them from that very first moment made his words irrelevant and Bass' heart almost hurt with the joy of it. So instead he pressed his lips to hers, pouring his emotions into the kiss, and she drank them down, welcoming them into her just as easily as she welcomed his body.

Whispering endearments, Bass slowly stood up, squeezing Charlie's thigh soothingly when she grumbled protests. Once he was upright, he took a moment to just look at her, spread out on the desk in front of him, her golden hair a wild mane of disarray and her cheeks flushed from their passion.

“You're so beautiful, Charlotte,” Bass murmured, stroking his hands down her thighs, relishing the feel of the muscles beneath the cotton of her pants. Then he ran his hands back up to the waist of her pants and pulled the soft blue cotton of her shirt free, giving him access to the bottom of the line of buttons holding it closed. He undid them quickly, hoping Charlie couldn't feel the way his fingers were trembling, though the thought flew out of his mind as he pushed the now loose shirt open and saw her unconstrained breasts bare before him. Charlie grinned up at him, mischief dancing in her eyes, and Bass could not hold himself in check any longer.

Leaning forwards, Bass pressed a hot, almost needy kiss to Charlie's lips while at the same time his fingers torn at the fastening of her pants, silently cursing whichever seamstress had decided hidden buttons was the best thing for the youngest Matheson's uniform. Charlie arched into him, hands threading through his hair as she bit and licked at his lips, making him fumble more than once.

Finally, however, Bass managed to slip the last button from it's hole and, after pressing one last kiss to Charlie's lips, dropped to his knees, pulling the blue cotton slacks down with him. Charlie hummed, pushing herself up on her elbows so that she could look down at Bass as he crouched before her. Bass looked up at her, drinking in the sight of her as he gently pulled off her boots and slid her feet free of both them and the crumpled cloth of her pants. Free of all constraints, Charlie let her legs fall open, baring her flushed, dripping sex to Bass' hungry eyes.

“Mmm,” Bass purred, leaning forwards to drawing in the thick, musky scent of her, his mouth practically watering as he looked at the trembling pink core of her, then lifted his eyes back to meet Charlie's piercing blue gaze. “So wet for me already. Are you that eager, Charlotte, or do you like the sight of me on my knees?” Charlie grinned down at him, a fierce baring of teeth that reminded Bass why all of his troops had insisted on nicknaming her 'lioness'.

“Both,” she replied, and Bass' dick throbbed so fiercely that it was almost painful. The sight of Charlie above him, her breasts peeking out of the uniform of his kingdom, her eyes blazing the same blue as his colors, her arousal so strong that he can almost taste it on the air... Bass had never stood a chance.

Never taking his eyes away from her, Bass leaned forwards and pressed his mouth to her beckoning sex, almost whimpering as the sharp tang of her taste exploded across his tongue. Charlie gasped, her eyes fluttering as Bass licked eagerly into the heat of her, but she did not look away. As Bass worshiped her with the clever tongue that had once lead thousands, she looked into his eyes and let herself imagine the world where she had ruled right beside him.

“Do you know what power it takes to put a general on his knees?” Bass growled, bringing his hand up from where it had been resting on her knee so that he could trail a single, teasing finger over Charlie's quivering entrance as he looked up at her with eyes that burned. “I have lead armies, conquered cities, forged a kingdom from the ashes of apocalypse... But I am helpless before you, Charlotte – ” Bass pressed his finger against her, letting just the tip slide inside as he licked sharply at Charlie's clit, ripping a gasp from her heaving chest “ – Charlotte, Charlotte, my beautiful girl... I'm going to make you scream my name so loudly that ever soldier in this godforsaken hall will hear you and know that you are _mine_.”

Bass dropped his head and sucked Charlie's clit into his mouth, driving the finger he had been teasing her with into her slick, hot depths and curling it quickly, rubbing on the spongy spot just inside her. Charlie swore, grabbing hold of Bass' head, the legs thrown over his shoulders beginning to tremble, but Bass was merciless, tonguing viciously at her clit as he slid another finger inside.

“Bass, Bass, oh _fuck_!” Charlie's voice broke and Bass looked up at her, never faltering from his assault. Charlie was looking down at him, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving, hair a wild golden mane around her. The militia jacket was spread open just enough that Bass could see her nipples, pebbled pink and perfect beside the blue fabric and he moaned, scissoring his fingers sharply. Charlie keened, grinding down against his hand, the fingers wrapped in his hair pressing his mouth even tighter against her trembling sex.

“Fuck Bass, please, _please_ – ” Charlie's voice broke into a wail as Bass curled his fingers forwards and sucked her clit into his mouth, bringing her orgasm crashing over her. But Bass had no time to even lick her through it, for Charlie pulled him up kissed him fiercely even as she was still trembling around his fingers.

“Fuck me, Bass, _now_ ,” she growled, biting at his lip so hard she almost drew blood, her eyes blazing as she looked at him. Bass didn't have to be told twice, practically ripping the closure to his own pants (two normal fucking buttons, thank you very much) open. He slid his fingers out of Charlie, making her whimper. But Bass did not force her wait long, wrapping a hand around his straining, weeping cock and pressing it against her slick, scorching heat.

“That what you want, Charlotte?” he asked, voice rough as he let the head of his cock just barely breech her, making them both gasp against each other's lips at the exquisite feeling. “You want my cock inside you? Want me to fuck you so hard on my desk you won't be able to walk right for days? Fuck you until I fill you up with my cum, marking you as _mine_ just like that fucking uniform does?” Bass rocked forwards, sinking another inch of his cock inside Charlie. “Maybe even put an heir in you?”

The last words were barely more than a growl across Charlie's lips and Bass' heart stuttered. The passion of the moment had ripped words from him that he had never had any true intention of saying and he feared that he would be pushed away in disgust. But Charlie moaned, her eyes blue stars gone supernova, and panted, “Yes, Bass, _yes –_ fuck – _please_!”

The room swam and there was a roaring in Bass' ears as he let out a growl like a feral animal and snapped his hips forwards, burying his cock to the hilt inside Charlie with a single thrust. Charlie keened, her muscles clamping down around him as the feel of Bass finally inside her kicked the orgasm that had been trailing off back into full life. Bass swore, hands grabbing onto Charlie's hips, which still bore the marks from their previous night's coupling (and didn't the sick monster in Bass' chest just _purr_ at that). He fucked into her with short, brutal thrusts, unwilling to pull away from her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and milked his cock like she wanted to suck him fucking _dry_.

“So fucking perfect,” Bass growled, pressing his forehead against Charlie's own as he pounded into her, holding her fast so that each thrust filled her completely, his cock slamming into her cervix like he was trying to fuck her womb itself. “Taking every fucking inch of me, coming on my cock like that. Fuck, Charlotte, I would conquer the _world_ for you, lay the whole of the fucking universe at your feet, for you, for our _children_ – ” Charlie's fingers sank into Bass' shoulder, her nails biting into his skin even through the shirt he somehow still had on. Her eyes burned with possessiveness and she attacked his lips in a kiss that was filled with teeth and tongue, devouring him. She spread her legs wider, taking every bit of Bass' cock and humming her pleasure as he pounded into her, filling her in a way that made her spine turn to pure liquid fire.

“Can't resist, can you?” Charlie asked, murmuring against Bass' lips ask she looked up at him, the blue eyes that could pierce his very soul and dragging his darkest secrets screaming into the light blazing with passion. “Filling me up with your cum... gets you so fucking hot, the thought that your seed might take root, knock me up with your child. Or Miles', when you fuck his cum into me like you're trying to brand me with it. But you wanna know a secret, Bass?”

Bass nodded erratically, his heart pounding. Charlie's words, dripping with his sins but curling from her mouth like a lover's embrace, were twisting the spiral of arousal tighter and tighter inside him, his balls practically _aching_ with the need to fill her so full that his cum would be dripping out of her for a week. Charlie could read it on his face, for her eyes were dancing as she breathed across his lips, “Gets me hot too.”

Bass' hands spasmed on Charlie's hips and the moan that her words ripped from his chest was ragged with need. Bass crushed his lips to Charlie's, knowing that if he looked at her for a second longer he was going to empty himself inside her. And he didn't want this to end. This was every one of his desires pulled from his dreams and made real before him and Bass was not willing to let it go so quickly. So instead he picked up the pace, pinning Charlie's hips to his desk and fucking her like if he stopped for even a moment he would die. Charlie panted and keened against his lips, nails biting so deep into his shoulder he knew that he would bleed when she released him, but the pain only spurred him on more, helping him hold onto his control. But Bass had always been a glutton for punishment, and so as Charlie buried her face into his shoulder, he began to whisper all the filth he had never dared say before in her ear.

“You like that, beautiful? Like my cock pounding you fucking raw? Fuck, Charlotte, you're so fucking perfect, taking my cock like this. Like you were fucking _born_ for it. I never would have been able to get any work done with you around, because all I would have been able to think about was throwing my captains out and bending you over my desk so I could fuck your sweet little pussy until you were _screaming_ for it. Begging me to fill you up with my cum. And I would have, but not before you came all over my cock like a fucking _angel_ , taking me so fucking deep it would be a miracle if I didn't put a child in you. And then Miles would have coming looking for us and you, oh _you,_ my beautiful wildcat, would have still been bent over and needy and of _course_ your poor uncle could never deny you _anything_ , so he would have taken his cock out and fuck my cum into you until you fucking _exploded_ around him. And I wouldn't have let him pull out, not when you were begging for it so pretty, so Miles would have emptied all his seed into you and then who knows whose kid it would be? I would have made sure that we kept you so full of our cum that even God himself wouldn't know. You'd be so fucking beautiful, sword in hand and your stomach swelling with our child. A _queen_ , and Miles and I at your feet, your dutiful generals, _worshiping_ you – ”

Charlie sank her teeth into Bass' neck, her orgasm ripping through her like a hurricane. The feel of her scorching wet heat clenching around him cut the last of Bass' control and he came with a snarl, slamming his hips into Charlie's so that he was buried as deep inside her as he could go as he filled her with pulse after pulse of thick seed. He swore he had never come so hard or long in his life, each spasm of Charlie's muscles around him or bitten off moan next to his ear pulling another spurt of cum from his cock. At this point it almost _hurt_ , but then Charlie moaned his name, trembling around him, and he swore he started all over again.

Bass' knees finally gave out and he was forced to sag backwards into the chair that was thankfully still behind him, and Charlie's iron grip on him made it so that she came to, their bodies still locked together in a way that made Bass wonder if he even remembered what being separated from her felt like. Both he and Charlie groaned when the movement of her settling astride his lap made his soft cock shift inside her, but neither was ready to lose the feeling of being joined together yet, so they leaned against each other, petting and kissing the other down from their high.

Slowly the raging storm of their passion began to calm. Charlie let her head rest on Bass' shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin of his neck as his pounding heart slowly returned to its normal steadiness beneath her splayed hand. Bass cradled Charlie to him, arms wrapped tight around her as he nuzzled the top of her head. He could feel the fluids of their lovemaking slowly beginning to slide passed his softening cock and onto the pants he hadn't even bother to push down during their coupling. But Bass wasn't willing to give up Charlie's warm, languid weight just yet, so he wrapped his arms tighter around her and let the peace of this moment sink into his bones.

But his mind did not give him rest for long. The words he had spoken, the things he had said to Charlie... Bass swallowed, his chest tightening as he remembered them. She had seemed to like it, but the midst of passion and reality were two very, very different things. What if – ?

“Bass.” Charlie's voice was soft, but it cut through his rising panic with the surety of a sword through cobwebs. Bass didn't want to look at her, didn't want to see the recriminations in her eyes, but Charlie knew all of his tricks and tells and would not let him off that easily. The hand she brought to his jaw was gentle, but there was no denying the steady pressure of it as she slowly guided Bass' head to the side so that he could meet her eyes. “Quit panicking. It's ruining my afterglow.”

It was such a Charlie thing to say that Bass couldn't stop the small huff of laughter even as his heart was still trying to claw its way up his throat. Taking a deep, shaking breath, Bass tipped his head forward and gently pressed his forehead against Charlie's own, leaning into the steady strength of her as he fought to get his emotions back under control.

“What I said...”

“Was hot,” Charlie said firmly, thumb stroking across Bass' stubbled cheek as she looked up at him, eyes warm. “And nothing I haven't thought of before.”

“But – ” Bass tried to protest, but Charlie pressed her lips gently to his, stilling his words with a soft kiss.

“Bass... you think I don't know?” Charlie bumped his nose gently with her own, looking up at him warmly. “You aren't exactly subtle, babe. And that's okay. I wasn't lying when I said it gets me off too. I _love_ the feeling of you coming inside me, love how full and warm it makes me feel. Before you and Miles, I never had that. It was quick fucks against an alleyway wall, maybe a coat thrown over some hay in a stable if he was a gentleman. They were empty, just scratching an itch, trying to fill the gaping loneliness in my chest. But this...” Charlie pressed down, reminding Bass that he was still cradled inside her and making his heart stutter at the heavy heat that knowledge brought. “...the feel of you like this... to me, this means love. It means trust. It means safety and peace and everything good in the world, because it's you, and Miles, and you _love_ me. Bass... that's something I have never had before. Not like this. And if a child were to grow from this, than I would know, without a single doubt, that that child was conceived from love. And that is _everything_ to me.”

“Me too.” Bass swallowed thickly, forcing back the emotions that had risen in his throat as Charlie spoke. “Oh Charlotte... I know I don't deserve it, but...”

“It's not about deserve,” Charlie replied firmly, the hand splayed across Bass' chest pressing down, covering his pounding heart. “It's about taking what life gives us and making the best of it. But I don't...” Charlie trailed off, her lips pressing tightly together “I don't know if my body can give you a child, Bass. I mean, it hasn't yet and we haven't exactly been careful.” Bass snorted at the understatement, but his eyes were serious as he looked into Charlie's eyes and saw the uncertainty she was trying desperately to hide.

“Charlotte... I love you. Not your body, not your womb, _you._ Do I dream of you with a blonde baby in your arms with my curls and Miles' eyes? Of course I do. I am a weak, selfish man and I want _everything_ with you. But only if you want it. If you told me right now that you did not want to have children, I would kiss you and tell you that I love you. If you told me right now that you _could_ not have children, I would kiss you and tell you that I love you. I would only mourn if you did, if a child was something that you had _wanted_.” Bass pressed his head lightly against Charlie's own, his arms holding her tightly as she blinked back tears she would not allow to fall.

“I love you too, Bass,” she murmured, voice rough as she leaned into Bass' chest, taking strength from him against the fear Charlie had not even realized she carried until that moment. “No matter what, I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....listen....  
> I am a flawed human being and I make no bones about that. But you just KNOW that Bass totally gets off on the thought of knocking Charlie up, what with his whole mentality about legacy and family. And seeing Charlie in a Militia uniform.... well, it just got ramped up to 11
> 
> This is the final chapter for this piece! Number five is in the works, and Miles will once again rejoin our glorious duo for the Victory Day celebrations! Cheers all, and much love to everyone! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying this journey with me!


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